La storia della Vongola I
by SkylarkPrincess18
Summary: This is the story of a boy named Giotto becoming the well-known Vongola Primo, gathering his guardians and turning a small vigilante troup into a large anti-crime organization. Follow his path until the very end. Lot of HEADCANON.
1. The great sky at his very first

**WARNING!**  
This story contains: Headcanons, speculation, OCs, probably for the later chapters: angst, fight, blood

 **ATTENTION!**  
I will try to get a little bit of historical accuracy into this fanfiction. I can´t promise to keep it though all the way, but I will give my best. According to my researches about items and clothes the first generation used I came to the conclusion it has to be set in the late 19th century. Therefore I chose 25th January 1856 as Giottos birthday.  
I will feature my version of how I think the first generation guardians had been and I will make use of a lot of OCs since I need them as supporters for the vongola, victims of crimes or criminals. Later I will introduce you some members of families we know from Tsunas time, but since I don´t like the idea of everything being the same as in tenth generation don´t expect them to be the same as the leaders we know.

 **SUMMARY:**  
Giotto is said to be the strongest mafia boss of all times, but he started off as nothing but a rather unpopular boy. This is the story of how he found the vongola, gathered his guardians, got the strongest and well-knownst 'mafiosi' and finally left his organisation behind. Follow him though his life and see what made him that special.

 **DEDICATION:**  
This first chapter is dedicated to every single fan of the vongola first generation.

„No doubt he's strange!"  
Francesca was leaning closer to her neighbour in order to prevent a certain someone to follow their conversation.  
„Look at him Paola! His hair, his eyes, everything's so … different."  
Actually she wasn't fond of whispering since these rumours often were rather wage and so it wasn't worthy of being talked over anyway, but it was different in that case. Because the person they were talking about was Giotto Loredano, the probably most awkward boy on this earth. The colour of his hair was the colour of straw and his eyes were as blue as the cloudless sky and his skin was flawless almost like a marble figure although he was quite often in the sun. The other boys she knew were totally different. Their hair was as dark as wood as well as their eyes and their skin was tanned from the burning sun. They also were behaving differently since they were loud, happy and active while Giotto always seemed to be somewhere else in his mind. His blue eyes would then stare into the distance as if he was able to see something nobody else could see and his way of dealing with other people was rather strange. When he was looking at someone it almost seemed as if he was looking inside them, as if he knew everything about them. Not even the deepest secrets and the worst wishes could be hidden from him. Actually that was the part scaring Francesca the most. It awakened the feeling of him knowing even more about someone than the person itself which was rather unpleasant. Many of the other children were afraid that he knew their secrets or worse that he would tell them somebody else.

And then there were the stories people were telling about him. She didn't even knew who had started the rumours, but it had started to become a habit to share his strange behaviour with the own friends. And that was the reason why they were sitting on the bench right now, whispering while the boy was still in sight.

"Yesterday he stayed behind at church." Francesca told with a low voice. "Giulia saw him. But instead sitting still and praying he just sat there for a rather long time. Don Camillo then of course came to him and asked if there was something on his mind. He then just said that life was straining him. He didn't really want to talk about it and just said that he didn't trust the priest since he wasn't a honest man. Additionally he said that he had secrets, too, and that you only have to account to god. Imagine! He face to face told a priest he's a dishonest man!"

Paola looked at her with big unbelieving eyes. She had heard many stories about Giotto Loredano, but this exceeded everything. It was an effrontery and she could understand the rage of her friend.

"Did he really say that?" she asked, being shocked as well while Francesca nodded quickly.

"Giulia heard it herself! These were just his words!"

For a moment the blonde boy turned his view from the sky and seemed to look at them directly. Francesca' s heart seemed to miss a beat and she shivered slightly as she suddenly had the feeling he had heard them talking.. Of course this was impossible since they were sitting too far from him, talking rather silent. Giotto surely needed to have a good listening in order to even get a part from their conversation. Nevertheless she gasped of relief when he averted his eyes again.

Giotto was already used to it. He couldn't hear the girls talking, but the way they were whispering and glancing at him didn't need his special skills in order to know what they were talking about. For a moment his sad eyes lasted on them then he averted them and instead looked into the sky. The girls immediately had stopped talking once he had looked at them which was just the confirmation he didn't need.

Although this city was his place of birth and should be his home he didn't really feel bound to it. Everything was chaotic, fast, loud and everybody seemed to avoid him. All the people here had their secrets and this seemed to be the reason why he was met with refusal. He had realized quickly that an own opinion and wide knowledge wasn't requested all the time but unfortunately he had realized it too late. It wasn't as if he had had a chance here after all, he had always been different and even if he had tried harder he would have been abandoned because of his looks. He knew that many people discusses why he looked like that though the explanation was actually rather easy. His father was a merchant and his business had brought him to many different places and one of his travels had brought him to the north where he had met a woman. Giotto had heard that she had been very beautiful and as far as he knew his parents had married secretly. But since he hadn't been able to stay behind because of his business his father went on travelling and when he had returned from India one year later he was told that she had died during birth. The small boy, who had been given the name of an Italian artist by his mother, was taken to Italy by his father. Though his name was the only Italian thing about him after all, because in everything else he came after his Nordic mother. Just another reason for his stepmother to detest him, because Giotto knew that she couldn't accept at all that her husband had been married before he being the living proof.

He sighed lowly. Why all these people were just so angry and bitter? He could feel it. The mood of all these people he saw everyday. He could feel whether they were friendly towards him or whether they were prejudiced and he always realized when they were lying to him. All these emotions and moods were penetrating him and so far he hadn't found a possibility to stop it. He didn't like to feel all the displeasure of the people surrounding him although it wasn't any different to him than to hear to feel or to taste. Yet he was trying hard to keep the dimension of his skills a secret.

With a last view to the clouds, which were slowly moving across the sky, he got of the wall he had been leaning at and went home. Surely his father was already waiting for him, though he doubted his stepmother was since he sometime had the feeling that she was even disappointed when he returned home in the evening. It wasn't like he was angry at the woman but he had realized early that she wasn't that fond of him. Her own marriage not being blessed with own children just made everything worse. Giotto didn't blame her, she was just an ordinary woman with daily problems.

Quickly he slipped through the iron gate and walked the short path to the house. After a short knock the family's maid opened the door and let him in. He greeted her and she granted him a bright smile. Giotto knew that she girl only was nice to him because she was extremely curious and hoped that he would be of some use one day. But he didn't care.

As he went down the corridor he heard voices from his father's study and he suddenly had the impression it would be better to eavesdrop the conversation.

"He's only a burden." Were the first words he listened to.

It was his stepmother's voice and when he came closer, hiding in the shadow of the door frame, he could see her for a moment. She was a beautiful young Italian with raven locks and an energetic character.

"What should I do Sofia? He's only a child, I cannot just send him away." His father was trying to calm her down.

Giotto was trying to hide more in the shadow of the door. It wasn't that difficult to guess who they were talking about. His heart suddenly weight heavily and he started to shake slightly.

"He ruins your business! I heard your business partner talking about it and if this stays like that we won't find anyone else who wants to trade with us. Additionally ..." Giotto could hear her hesitating while a single tear already ran down his cheek. "I'm expecting a child."

"You … want me to send him away because of that?"

His father didn't seem to be very fond of the idea to send away his first born son.

"Yes, that's what I want!" I want that we have our own family, Pietro! But we never will as long as that boy is here! Whilst you'll keep thinking of her! And our child will be abandoned just like him!"

His stepmother's voice was almost hysterical. There was a short silence and Giotto could feel his father's agony as if it was his own.

"I … will send him to my parents." He finally responded softly. "Would that be fine with you?"

From one moment to the other the mood in the room changed and Giotto could feel the triumphant happiness of his stepmother once she had reached her goal. Quickly Giotto turned away and ran upstairs into his room while he was wiping away the tears, that didn't want to stop, with the hand of his back.

It was time to pack.

The travel had been long and Giotto was at his limits when they finally arrived at the mansion of his grandparents. His father had given him to an acquaintance who had to travel in the region because of business. Giotto had only needed seconds to understand that he wasn't allowed to speak or to make himself noticeable in any way. So he had spent the time with pretending not to be there and he was almost glad when he was dropped in front of the door together with his luggage. He couldn't have hoped for more because even his parents hadn't said their goodbyes in a gentle way. While his father at least had pretended to miss him his stepmother had showed how happy she was with him leaving. At least it hadn't been hard for him to leave because of that.

Thoughtfully Giotto observed the rural mansion and the surrounding. Somehow he just got the feeling that this place would be good for him. He examined the age-old trees and in some distance he could see a small village. The mansion was larger than he would have thought and it seemed to originate from a better time. He knew that Sicily had been hard-fought and that the French rule had just ended a couple of years ago. Since then situation had become more difficult. He could sense many people despairing and starving. If Giotto knew correctly only his grandparents and some subordinates lived here although the mansion offered enough space for several families and their subordinates.

Giotto sighed lowly and looked at his luggage. He hadn't taken much with him but the suitcase was too large and too heavy for him nevertheless. But all these thoughts didn't show any results and so he took all his strength and pulled the suitcase along the path to the heavy front door. He was out of breath when he finally arrived, knocking at the old door. It took a moment until the door was opened by an older woman who examined him for a moment and then smiled at.

"Good afternoon, you must be Giotto." she greeted him in such a friendly way that Giotto's heart jumped because of happiness and a bright smile appeared on his face.

"My name is Angelika. Come in and I'll show you your room. Your grandparents aren't at home right now, but I'm sure they'll be happy to meet you."

Giotto was just about to pull his suitcase over the doorstep when the housekeeper's eyes met the luggage in his hand. She smiled and eagerly shook her head.

"Leave your suitcase right here, Giotto. I'll ask Adriano to bring it upstairs later."

With a last short view on his suitcase the boy followed her as asked and left the luggage right next to the front door. To be honest he was rather glad he didn't had to carry it upstairs all by himself. He followed the housekeeper who brought him to a room at the end of the corridor in the second floor. It was rather solitary but it offered a fantastic view on the fields and meadows which surrounded the mansion. The high ceiling was white and the walls were coloured pastel green. The furniture was made of white wood and seemed to enlarge the room even more which already was done by the big windows. It was just wonderful.

"We actually awaited you for tomorrow, but I'll finish your room later on alright?" The older woman offered, meaning the not yet prepared bed.

Giotto quickly nodded while he was still looking around fascinated. He already felt comfortable here and although he first had been scared he now was looking forward to meet his grandparents.

While they were waiting for his grandparents return, Angelika showed the boy around the house, taking him to all the rooms from the kitchen across the library and even to every single room which were currently empty. Every single of them was interesting in its own way and yet Giotto was overly happy with his room. He got to know that besides the housekeeper there were also a young man named Adriano, a chubby middle-aged cook named Antonio and a young housemaid named Giorgia at the house.

So the huge estate was just inhabited by six people and from now on there would be seven. Additionally there were also two big watchdogs and a couple of horses on the ground.

Giotto just was on a new wandering through the house when he heard how the door downstairs got opened. He quickly hid behind the handrail in order to eavesdrop. He didn't know much about his grandparents and if he was honest he still was afraid to meet them although the hope they'd like him was still existent.

"Please, be to so kind and bring the boy to the parlour, Angelika. I'd really like to get to know him. Pietro didn't tell us much about him, just that he didn't seem to like the city. He most likely takes after his mother." A deep but pleasant voice could be heard from the entrance. It seemed to be his grandfather.

"I doubt this is the only reason, Signore. You will notice as soon as you see him he really is a fascinating boy and overly extraordinary." The firm but friendly voice of Angelika responded while Giotto still tried to get the current mood.

"Giorgia, please be so kind and bring some tea to the parlour."

This time he heard the voice of a woman who had to be his grandmother.

"Of course, Signora." The housemaid's polite voice could be heard and he heard to low clicking of her shoes on the flat ground.

Giotto felt the comforting warmth that started fill him up while he followed the discussion downstairs. He had been called interesting and extraordinary but not strange. He took a deep breath and then slowly got up and went downstairs to the foyer, a nervous smile on his face.

His grandfather noticed him quickly and examined him attentively while there was a small smile on his face. He was an older man with already white hair but flawless composure, radiating huge authority. His grandmother showed a similar composure, but her smile was much wider.

"Good evening Signore and Signora." He greeted politely, trying to show best manners.

"Good evening, Giotto." His grandmother greeted him with a gentle sound in her voice, examining him interested.

His grandfather on the other hand kept looking at him for another while until he nodded lightly.

"Come, my boy. There is much we need to talk about."

From this day on his life changed immediately. His grandparents were stern but friendly and very interested. His grandmother told him many stories and fairy-tales from far away countries and from time to time she read out to him while his grandfather started to teach him. He insisted on his grandchild to show the best manners and to attend different studies attentively. Giotto learned much about trade, politics and Sicily's history including the fight between Italy and France and the Sicily Revolution as well as the infinite connection to the Italian Kingdom in 1861. His grandfather hadn't been part of the fights but it wasn't hard to see that he wasn't a huge friend of France. Yes, sometimes it even seemed as if he almost hated all French. Giotto noticed this attitude but he didn't adopt it. He believed that not every citizen of a country could be blamed for its lead. Probably there were nice French as well as there were impolite Italians.

When he was nine years old they were visited by a by a business partner of his grandfather. He was from Japan and he had brought his fourteen years old son with him. Giotto had missed most of their negotiations but instead he had spent some time with the young Japanese and had showed him around. It had been hard for him to let his new friend return to his homeland, but they had promised each other to stay in contact.

About the issue of politics Giotto showed great talent besides his young age. It wasn't difficult for him to name the countless names, families and organizations which wielded power on the island. Sometimes Giotto was allowed to get to know some of his grandfather's partners that mainly were powerful personalities of the country and thanks to his good manners and his talent to understand other people he soon was treated with remarkable respect. Giotto early noticed that this issue would be important for him and he quickly started to develop own opinions, to advance his view and to think about countless problems.

Therefore he hadn't much contact to children of his age anymore, but he didn't care anyway. When the opportunity was afforded he played with the employees and if not he went for a walk on his own. Fate had been good to him and had finally given him a place where he could live in happiness.

He had a family and a home.

Not even the early death of his grandmother could disrupt this feeling of home.

_

 **Did you like it until know?  
**  
 **Please comment for little Giotto 3**


	2. A Storm draws closer

To FluffyCanaries:  
I have to say that I´ve never heard of that name and none of the wikis I use, nor the character book features his last name. Therefore I chose an usual italian name for him.  
Thank you anyway.

To all readers:  
Sorry it took me so long but I´m writing this fanfic in my mothertongue and am translating it for and I have to say that it´s really hard for me. Therefore I´m sorry for mistakes. It´s more fluent in my language were I´m already at chapter eight, but I´ll try to translate more often.  
Have fun reading.

* * *

 **Years 1866 to 1868 [10/12]**

Three years had passed since Giotto was sent to the country, until there was another chance. It had been a hot summer day as he went down to the sea with Adriano, in the intent to talkt a walk around the coves. Giotto rarely went to the sea and even though it hold a great fascination. Since he couldn´t swim he never went in deeper than up to his knees. Probably Adriano wouldn´t have let him anyway. He had heard about those far away countries on the other side of the sea from his grandfather and he knew that behind these large sea there was a country called france. His grandfather hated france and even though his grandfather wasn´t pleased about it, he wanted to visit it some day. Watching this country with his own eyes. His grandfather thought that all frenchmen were useless, but Giotto thought that there were people like that in every nation. Since he himself was rarely accepted by other people, he wanted to accept everyone like they were, without having prejudices. To him only the persons character mattered.

Giotto was on his way down to the beach and was lost inside his daydreams as he discovered something, that let him skip a heartbeat. Down there in between the rocks on the beach was lieing something or rather someone. It was obviously a human and as Giotto came closer he recognized that it was a boy who was rarely older than he himself. Maybe two or three years. His wet red hair covered most of his face and as Giotto kneeled down next to him and gently shook him, he didn´t react. Was he dead? No, his chest seemed to move slightly, an unmistakeable sign that he was still alive. Without hesitation he run back to the path.  
„Adriano! Please come, there is a boy at the beach and he´s hurt!" he cried out with panic in his voice, leading his companion through the rocks and to the boy.  
He watch in pain, as Adriano started to examine the boy and impatiently bit his lip. He couldn´t wait to hear an opinion more expert than his own. The young man didn´t even turn around to him and carefully turned the boy around.  
„His injuries are heavy." he explained with a calm voice and his hands scanned the stranger. He tried to value how heavy they really were. „We could bring him back to the mansion, but I can´t promise that he will recover."  
Giotto nodded immediately.  
„We take him back."  
With a short nod Adriano took on the liveless body and carried him all way back to the small carriage in the intention of bringing the boys back to the mansion as soon as possible.

They just arrived at the mansion and Adriano had carried to boy over the doorsill as Giorgie and Angelika showed up in fron of them. Both wondering about their young masters early return. While Adriano brought the foreign boy upstairs to bring him into one of the guest room and Angelika walked over to the kitchen to get some fresh water, ointments and compresses, Giotto was hold back from the families maid.  
„I am sorry Giotto, but you won´t be able to help them. If you want to I´ll make some tea for you during the wait. I´m sure Angelika will tell you immediately if something happens."  
For a moment Giotto watched the stairs, a painful expression on his face. He wanted to be with the boy, help him to recover, question him about his origin and who he was. Maybe this boy was from one of these foreign countries he sometimes dreamed about. Giotto could help him to get back to his family and maybe they could be friends.  
„They will do their best ..." Giorgia promised him and patted his head.  
With a low sigh Giotto nodded. Currently he couldn´t help the boy and probably it would be selfish to insist on staying with him. Adriano and Angelika were used to treat injuries and illnesses since the next doctor was living too far away and they usually treated to sick and injured in their house. Giotto was sure that he wouldn´t be helpful but more likely stand in their way. He resigned and followed the young maid to the salon and let her bring some tea.  
Once he had emptied his cup of tea and there still were no news, he decided to go to the small chapel and prayed for the life and health of the boy.

On the evening Giotto was told that the boy would survive. He had swallowed a lot of water and got plenty injuries, but since he survived until now, the chances were good that he would recover. The only one unimpressed by this news was Giottos grandfather, but since he didn´t want to disappoint his grandson and he couldn´t throw out a injured boy, he allowed him to stay. But he made clear that Giotto was the one to take full responsibility for him. They even allowed him to enter the strangers room from now on to look after his patient. At the start Giottos hopes had been high that the boy would wake up as soon as he was able to visit him, but he soon realized that this wouldn´t suffice at all. Most times he sat on a small chair next to the bed and watched the redhead. It took almost a week for him to open his eyes for the first time.

As Giotto entered the room to look after his patient, he noticed that the boy was already sitting on his bed. At first he looked outside the window, but as he noticed him, he looked over and watching him warily.  
"Where am I?" he asked then. His voice was rather harsh and his tone was blunt, but Giotto was sure that it was because of his injuries and that his throat was rough because he hadn´t been able to speak during the last week. With fascination Giotto realized that the strangers eyes, that at first seemed to be in an unusual brown were actually dark red. At the moment the boy was repellant, but Giotto was sure that this would change soon. Nevertheless he hesitated. It had been quite some time since he had talked to someone in his age and it was hard to find the right words.  
"My name is Giotto." He finally said and tried to be as polite and friendly as possible and smiled at him. "This mansion belongs to my grandfather. But may I ask for you name?"  
The redhead hesitated for a moment and stroke over his temple as if he had to think about that for a moment.  
"I … don´t know." he mumbled finally and stared at the sandy colored wall on the other side of the room. His thoughts were racing.  
Giotto on the other hand was surprised.  
"I … don´t know anything." The boy said and his glance went back to Giotto, who looked at him worried. His grandfather had told him about an acquaintance that once got a wood truss against his head and lost his memory in return. Maybe something similar had happened to this boy. Giotto thought about it for a moment and remembered that his grandfather had called it amnesia.  
"Are you sure that you can´t remember anything?" he asked lowly. He still hoped that his patient would remember something. The boy seemed concentrated and thoughtful, but then he fumbled for something underneath his dress shirt and pulled out a small chain. The chain seemed to be out of iron and a small tag was attached to it. Something was graved onto it.  
"G." The boy mumbled lowly.  
Giotto slightly tilted his head and gave him a questioning look.  
"Please?"  
"I think that´s what I am called … G." The redhead repeated more confident and closed his hands around the pendant. He glanced back to Giotto, but received an irritated look. Then he nodded  
"You don´t know where you are from, do you G?"  
The redheaded boy shook his head, but he didn´t say anything.  
"Would you like to stay here for now?" Giottos voice was tentative.  
For a moment G was silent and thougtfully looked into the blue eyes of his host. He seemed to think about it.  
„Here?" he then asked suspicious. Even though he didn´t seem to be too sure about that, but he didn´t have a better alternative.  
"Yes. We have enough space here and I would like you to stay. I don´t think it would be a problem and if you wanted I´d talk to my grandfather."  
G was silent and for a moment Giotto scared that he would leave. But then G nodded slightly.  
„If you regain your memory or you don´t feel well, then you can leave at any time." Giotto suggested and hoped that it would be alright for his new companion.  
"You know you are strange, don´t you" G grumbled as a reply and tried to relax again. Obviously their talk had been more exhausting than he had thought.  
"Yes. I know that." Giotto replied with an unbelievable soft smile.

Within the following weeks Gs constitution grew better with every day and the two boys got closer. G motivated Giotto to go to the small town with him every now and then, even though Giotto had avoided the contact because of his bad experience with other people. G probably disliked staying at the mansion every day, because unlike Giotto he seemed like a person that liked some action. And this was not the only thing they weren´t similar at. Giotto was calm, while G was full of spirits. While Giotto was sitting in the library to read, G tried to persuade him to go on some adventures nearby. It wasn´t rare or Giotto to return covered in mud and dirt, with bruises at his hands and knees. Once he tried to climb up onto a wall and broke his arm. His grandfather was barely pleased and told him to be calm down. But at least there was one thing, the two of them shared. Gs red hair, his eyes and his hot temper were nearly as disliked as Giottos intuition and his weird nature.

So they were sitting under one of those large trees in the garden and watched the pictures they could imagine in the clouds. By now Giotto was twelve years old and once they got friends he started to tell G more about himself and his secrets. About his unusual intuition and the strange things that were going on with him lately. A few weeks ago he suddenly started to burn without any reason. At first Giotto was sure that he accidently touched a candle, but it had been at daytime and the candles weren´t even lit. Something similar had happened some days ago and even though nobody was harmed, he worried about it a lot.

"Did you ever wonder why you´re blessed with this skill?" G asked curiously.  
Giotto wasn´t that pleased since he avoided to speak about it. He watched the sky thoughtfully.  
"You think there´s a reason?"  
"Well. It´s not normal. Even you´re grandfather says that he had never even heard of it and he´s been to so many places. Maybe you could train your abilities and then you could use it." G grinned. He seemed to be totally into it, while Giotto returned his look insecure.  
Giotto didn´t like the idea of training his abilities. It was weird once he started to burn. There was this prickle in his fingers and the flames only lasted for a moment.  
"Hey. What´s up?" asked the redhead and gave Giotto a punch onto the shoulder. "Are you scared?"  
Actually he was. He had even started to avoid touching other people because he feared they would burn as well.  
"That´s not it." Giotto mumbled.  
„Well. Then let us try!"  
Within seconds G was on his feet and pulled him up as well. Giotto gave a low sigh as he gave in and tried to follow Gs instructions. The result was disappointing. Whatever Giotto did nothing had happened. But G didn´t give in and so they started tot rain every day for weeks.

It took quite some time until something happened.  
Similar to the days before they were standing under the big tree in the garden and Giotto tried to get his hands to burn with nothing more than his mind. Suddenly flames started to burn and within seconds his whole body was covered in flames. Giotto fell onto his knees with a tortured noise. He covered his face with his burning hands and screamed in pain.  
G was unable to realize what had happened for some seconds, his eyes onto his tortured friend. It was his fault, he thought. He had forced Giotto to use his ability. If something would happend to Giotto, then …

He shook his head. There had to be something he could to. Suddenly his glance met the small pond only a few metres away. He saw back to Giotto. Then he took a deep breath and put his arms around his best friend. He barely realized the pain as the flames burned his skin, while he pulled Giotto closer and walked over to the pond. Once he reached it, he jumped in it.  
The water evaporated immediately and for a moment G feared that it would be useless. But then the flames went out and Giotto was hanging in his arms without consciousness. G pulled him up quickly and tried to get the body back onto the earth as soon as possible. In panic he shook the lifeless body, but nothing happened. He had to do something. Now. How should he live if Giotto died because of his stubbornness? With his remaining strength he lifted the body up and returned to the house as fast as he could. He was stumbled and his body was shaking and once he walked over the doorsill, he collapsed. But even now he still pulled Giotto close as if it would help him. He wanted to scream for help, but he couldn´t. He couldn´t even get up anymore. There was nothing left than sitting here, while he started to cry, waiting for anyone to find them. It was Giorgia, the young maid. She came from the kitchen with a tablet and was on her way to the salon as she saw the two boys. With a high-pitched cry she dropped the tablet and run over to them. Alarmed by the noise Giottos grandfather, Adriano and Antonio came to the entrance hall immediately. It took some time for them to convince G to let go of Giottos body, but once they successed, the boys were brought to their rooms. Giorgia was sent to get the doctor, whilte the other people tried to do the best for now. The boys condition was horrible.  
G got severe burns on his arms, his body and his face and the doctor couldn´t do more than ease his pain. Then he put on some ointment to the burns. He was sure that some scars would remain but G didn´t seem to mind at all. He just nodded.  
Giotto on the other hand wasn´t hurt on his body. It seemed to be more of an injury of his mind and soul. Even the doctor couldn´t explain it. But days went by and Giotto kept unconscious. Now and then his eyelids seemed to flatter, as if he wanted to make sure that he was still alive.  
During this time G refused to talk. He didn´t answer any question about the accident and remained on Giottos side day and night. At first he even refused to eat or drink, but Adriano convinced him that Giotto wouldn´t be pleased if he died now. But he still refused to speak or sleep or leave Giottos side.

It took a whole week until Giotto moved, but G noticed immediately.  
"G-Giotto?" He asked with a hoarse voice and took his friends small hand.  
It were his first words since the accident had happened and his voice got a strange tone. His watched his friend with worry and guilt, as said friend slowly opened his eyes. G could feel the pain in his heart and for a moment he was too shocked to talk. The warm blue of his friends' eyes had changed into an unnatural orange. They seemed to be made out of the fire that had burned him.  
Gs stomach was tied up in knots but he forced himself to not look away. It wasn´t just the intensity of the new color that had shocked him, but the new expression in his eyes. They didn´t seem human anymore. Giottos eyes had been full of love and gentleness, blue as the sky on a summer day. The new eyes were full of a foreign power, as if they were made of pure flames, but they showed no emotion.  
"G?" Giotto asked with a weak voice. His eyes were searching for the others face.  
"I´m here." G replied and touched his shoulder for more comfort. „Are you thirsty?"  
„Is … this my fault?"  
Giotto still watched his friends face. The skin was uneven and it was easy to see that the fire had burnt it. Tears appeared in the orange eyes.  
"It´s not your fault, Giotto."  
It was hard for G to see how Giotto searched the fault in his own behavior. Everything that happened had been Gs fault after all and while he carefully brushed over Giottos hair, while said boy cried, he vowed to himself that he would be there for his friend. At every time and every place. He would be his friend and his guardian. Never ever Giotto should be dragged into something that tragic.


	3. Keeping earth in balance

Hey there reader, I am sorry it took so long for the next chapter. Maybe there is still someone interested.

I´m writing this fanfiction in my mothertongue german and translate it later. Since their is happening a lot of stuff in the later chapters and my english is not that well, I need to coordinated everything which takes time.  
It´s also very hard for me to find an appropriate translating. If anyone would be interesting in beta reading I´d be glad, since I don´t really know how to write it better.

But now have fun with the next chapter, which is actually really much like the manga. But chapter four will be "drenched with rain" which is very much my own stuff.

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 **Year 1870 [14]**

It took a few month for them to get used to their new lifes. A friend of Antonio who was a sailor tatooed Gs face to cover up his burned skin. But for G those red flames symbolized much more, it was a reminder for him to stay close to Giotto. Support him and protect him.  
Sadly their time of peace was short, because everything around slowly sank into chaos. At first it was barely noticeable. But the people in the nearby village got quieter and seemed frightened. Then everything excalated and violence got more common. There were a lot of small criminal gangs, that tried to pressure the shop owners to get money and discounts. If the owner refused to pay, they would come back on the following day and break everything they could find. At first those payments had been small and most of the people paid them, because they were afraid, but lowly the prices got much higher. If the shop owner paid them, they got no money left and their families had to starve.  
At some time Giotto couldn´t bear it anymore and he started to give away money to those people. Just a little here and there. His grandfather had owned their land for a long time and he had grown to wealth. Obviously the bandits were careful with too wealthy people and they never even got close to his house. Probably it was for his grandfathers connections with high ranking people on sicily.  
One day Giotto went to a man called Paolo and he purposely left a bag of food there. He was accompied by G as he noticed a wallet full of money, that hadn´t been here a short time before. Probably that young boy had left it here. Giotto took the bag.  
„We have to give it back to him." He explained and they started to follow the stranger.

It took them a few streets to catch up.  
"Hey, you there! You with the red hair!" shouted Giotto and tried to catch up to him.  
The boy gave him a surprised look, while Giotto was out of air and tried to calm down. He took a moment before he started to speak again.  
"You dropped your wallet. We found it in Paolo´s storage room." He explained and gave the bag back to the boy. But the other didn´t seemed to be surprised. He just smiled and looked at the bag, before he spoke again.  
"Ah, this is bad … I dropped it on purpose. I couldn´t stand to watch Paolo and his family starve to death."  
For a moment there was silence and Giotto stared at the bag in his hand. He made a mistake?  
"I see … I apologize about that … but there is no need to worry about Paolo´s family. We dropped the food we bought, inside Paolo´s storage room too."  
The stranger started to smile, than he laughed. His laugh was so sincere, that Giotto had to laugh as well.  
"Haha. You too?" The boy asked once he had calmed down.  
„Yeah." Giotto answered with a wide smile.

„I am Shimon Cozart." The boy offered his hand. „I´m here visiting my aunt."  
„I heard of Shimon family from my grandfather." Giotto replied with a small nod, then he pointed at the boy behind him. "This is my friend G and my name is Giotto."  
The new found friends shook their hands.

Since that day Cozart came often to visit Giotto and G and they started to go on their own small adventures. Trying to help the village people without anyone getting to suspicious. Some time they dreamed about a great future. How they could make everything better and everyone would get happy. But the most of these dreams were unrealistic. They would never come true.

Everything changed as a few weeks later. Giotto was on his way back to his home, as he noticed some people debating on the roadside, a young woman running over the street with her small child and he noticed a weird silence. Something wasn´t right at all and as Giotto heard the name Franco, his heart stood still for a moment. He changed his destination. But while he walked down the streets the bad feeling even intensified. The streets were empty and as Francos shop came into his sight, his face lost every bit of color. There wasn´t much left from Francos flower shop, it had been completely destroyed and a crowd of people was standing around. Meanwhile Giotto was running.  
"How´s Franco´s condition?" He asked, he was out of breath and looked around to notice that G and Cozart were already here.  
"Not good." Cozart answered. „They threatened the police so noone is coming."  
„Why Franco has gotten into this?!"  
It was unbelievable for Giotto. If he knew someone in this town, who wouldn´t have deserved this, it had to be Franco. He was an elderly man, visited by his children and grandchildren, while he still sold beautiful flowers. He had been very friendly to all kind of people and he would talk to everyone who wanted to talk.  
"It´s because he didn´t give them 90 percent off…" explained G, who watched the scenery with anger.  
"What?!" Giotto asked shocked. A discount of 90% was madness. No shop in this town could give a discount like that and he didn´t wonder why Franco had rejected it. But Giotto wondered. What had become of the town that he had loved so much?

"This town is a paradise for outlaws. They … threat towns people and take their money away. If we don´t do as they say, they´ll just resort to violence, we can´t rely on police since they already gave in to them..."  
Cozart pulled two crying children into his embrace. It had been two of Francos grandchildren and he tried to calm them down. Their parents were still on their way, but the children had been unharmed. With a mixture of sadness and thoughtfulness Giotto picked one of the roses from the ground that had been lucky enough to survive this brutality.  
"I love this town." Giotto finally said, still looking at the flower. "It´s a poor town, but shines like the sun. The towns people are always happy and I love their smile."  
Suddenly the mood changed and Giottos melancholy changed into some kind of anger. He seemed  
calm on the outside, but the anger was noticeable to everyone around. Giotto was tense.  
„Just shutting up and looking at the town falling into ruin. I had enough already."  
Nobody dared to say anything against it.  
"Giotto. A vigilante group…" he finally said.  
Giotto looked at him with irritation.  
„A vigilante group?"  
„Yes. If nobody can help us, we have to save the town by ourselves. However in order to do so, we need a powerful leadership that can manage people. Like the sky can wrap up rain, storm and even the sun."  
He still watched his friend.  
"There is no one but you, Giotto."

After this day they started to meet up more often and talked about their plans for the future in precise details. Cozart and G agreed, that only Giotto could lead the vigilante group and he had come to terms with his gate about that.  
While they had simply helped the towns people until now, they had a larger task now. They had to search for allies within the people, that were ready to help out without getting paid.  
They would need a lot of power and they would endanger their families. Surprisingly a lot of people trusted Giotto as their way too young leader and wanted to help him.  
While Giotto started to organize a night watch, Cozart and G accompied these groups trying to get more information they could use for a saver environment. They walked through the town and once they noticed something strange or dangerous, they informed every member of the vigilante group, so they could gather. Once a gang of criminals was in towns, they could immediately react to every sort of threating.  
The criminals had been surprised about how well the vigilante group had been organized and they quickly withdrew. Even though Giotto worried they could come back with more people. Even if it was only for a short time, there was peace.  
"Say Giotto. Do you have a name for the vigilante group?" Cozart asked on one of their meetings. They were stressed out about their work, but everything was fine at the moment.  
Giotto smiled. "Yes. The name will be Vongola. A clam that protects the treasure inside it with its hard shell."  
"A good name" Cozart said with a satisfied nod and started to think about an emblem they use.  
But things changed, since Cozart received a letter from his parents on the same day. He had to go back home and leave the barely established Vongola. He promised that he´d stay in contact with Giotto but it would be plenty of years until they met up again.

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Thanks to FluffyCanaries for your help 3


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